You don't have to wait for the 'speak now' part
by Dianaprince89
Summary: Liz had never told anyone about being in love with Jack, not even her therapist or the porn-for-women guy on T.V. No one. So how would Jenna, of all people, know? One-shot.


He was marrying someone else.

_Someone_, Liz mentally corrected. The phrasing of "someone else" implied _not her_ in a way that imported a significance that was glaringly absent in their relationship.

She was not an _else_ for Jack.

She was just Lemon. _Just Lemon._

She was preparing to sit politely in the second row and smile adoringly and compliment the bride when Jenna barged in with a fashion emergency, nay a _crisis_. Liz feigned annoyance but was secretly glad for the distraction.

There was a split second where it seemed like Jenna realized that was the case but Liz brushed it off because that would mean Jenna knew and, well, no one knew.

Liz had never told anyone about being in love with Jack, not even her therapist or the porn-for-women guy on T.V.

No one.

So how would Jenna, of all people, know that Liz needed to be distracted before she rushed into Jack's room and threw herself at him in a mess of lavender (ugh, why did she agree to wear this stupid dress?) and tears?

She wouldn't know. Because, no one knew.

At least Liz wasn't a bridesmaid, although they had asked her to wear the horrible purple dress so the photos would be properly coordinated.

When Jack handed it to her she had bitten back a comment about looking like Barney's albino cousin. She's supposed to be happy for him, after all. Supportive.

There was really no formal wedding party. Jack didn't really have anyone who was best-man material and Abby didn't want any women at the alter taking the focus off of her.

Liz didn't have to worry about being asked to do a reading or having to carry the ring and accidentally getting it stuck on her finger (and unlike Julia Roberts there's no way she could pull off having Jack remove it by sticking her finger in his mouth).

Liz helped Jenna with her so-called crisis and then it was time for the wedding to begin. Tracy was "fashionably late" which, was actually on time because Liz had advised Jack to change the start time on Tracy's invitation to accommodate this occurrence.

There were a lot of things about the wedding that Liz advised Jack on. She didn't like to think of it as helping him to plan the wedding because there was something romantic-comedy level pathetic about helping the man you love plan his wedding to anther woman.

To _a _woman (not to imply that she should have helped him plan his wedding to a man, just to say, again, that it's not like he's "supposed" to be marrying Liz instead).

And then he was standing in the front of the room and people were milling about and Liz was just staring at Jack next to the alter thinking, "I should be the one he's waiting for up there."

But how would he know that?

Because no one knew.

She never once even hinted at thinking of him as anything more than a boss, mentor, a friend.

And god only knew how many times he'd told her about how unattractive, masculine, poorly dressed, poorly groomed, inarticulate, lesbian, plebian, and generally undesirable she was.

So why would she even bother to express her own feelings when they're so obviously and painfully contrary to his?

Exactly.

She almost called in sick to this whole ordeal but when he told her he was engaged, Jack looked Liz in the eye and said, "I really think this is it, Lemon. You'll be there, right?"

And she said something enthusiastic and positive and reassuring and after accepting a third hug in as many minutes (they're apparently not so ethnic when they are in celebration of your pending nuptials) she excused herself to throw up in the bathroom on the executive floor.

Smarter people, stronger people, maybe even just more self-assured people than Liz wouldn't have waited until Jack's wedding day to consider telling him about their feelings.

Other people in her situation do the honorable thing and either keep their mouths shut and move to a foreign country so they have an excuse not to attend or they spill their guts when they're told about the engagement and it's not such a last minute, reeking-of-desperation thing.

Clearly, Liz is not those other people.

Abby's mother came through a side door and whispered something to Jack before he turned to face the crowd, gesturing for their attention.

"Hello everyone," he greeted, a wide grin on his face. "Thank you all for coming. It seems there's been a slight hiccup and that the bride will require an additional half-hour to prepare so if you would all just stay close and bear with me at this time, we'd greatly appreciate it. Thank you."

Jack whispered something else to Abby's mother and she disappeared in a frenzy.

Before Liz had time to consider what was going on, Jenna had slipped into the seat next to her. Leaning over conspiratorily, she looked from Jack to Liz and then back again.

"Now's your chance," she urged. "Tell him."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Liz lied (unconvincingly), and _nerds! _ How in the world does Jenna know how she feels about Jack?

Undeterred, Jenna grabbed Liz's forearm and squeezed gently.

"It's now or never, Liz," she implored. "You have to tell him that you're in love with him."

"What?" Liz stammered, looking around to see who might have overheard. "That's crazy. I don't know what you're talking about. I do not love ham!"

"You aren't fooling anyone," Jenna rolled her eyes. "Even Jack knows; he just assumed you never said anything because you didn't think he was worth it."

"What are you talking about?" Liz continued feigning ignorance, but when she caught Jack's eye and he smiled broadly she felt a sick, nervous churning in her gut at the infinitesimally, impossibly, miniscule chance that Jenna was right.

"He knows," Jenna repeated. "He just needs to hear you say it."

As Jenna stood, Liz grabbed her, a horrifying thought crossing her mind.

"What did you do to Abby?" she asked.

"Nothing permanent," Jenna assured her with a flick of her long, blonde hair. "But you've got at least an hour until this show is back on track."

Liz groaned, pretending it was in annoyance at having to wait an hour before the wedding began.

Jenna disappeared and Liz felt like she couldn't breathe. She'd felt something like this once before, when she realized that Floyd really was going to move to Cleveland even if she said she didn't want to go with him. She knew they wouldn't make it work long distance; she's barely been able to make relationships work when she lives in the same city as the man. And the fear and desperation and loneliness she felt then was unparalleled by the way she feels right now.

Liz got up and tried to flee the church as discreetly as possible, slipping out a side door and walking quickly through the garden adjacent to the church. She saw a small veranda and made a beeline for it and the protection it would offer from prying eyes.

She sat down with a sigh and even in her state of emotional stress she realized the way she flopped was so unladylike it was astonishing. Why would Jack want a woman who couldn't even sit down right?

"Nerds!" she exclaimed aloud to no one in particular.

There was a distinct throat-clearing from the opening to the veranda.

"Am I interrupting?" Jack asked, a laugh lurking in his words.

"Not at all," Liz plastered on a smile, hoping that his joy over the wedding would make him somehow less perceptive of her mood. "How you doing big guy?" she asked, wincing at the weird nickname. She berated herself again (pull it together, Lemon!).

"Well Lemon," he sighed happily. "I made it."

_Not yet,_ she almost blurted. "Yep," she said instead. "Congratulations."

"Take a walk with me," he extended a hand to help her up. "Abby's mother assures me we have at least an hour."

Liz took his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet.

"You look lovely," he complimented, and Liz thought the wedding happiness must be making him delirious.

"Thanks," she mumbled, smoothing a wrinkle in her dress just to give herself something to do.

They walked for a minute or two until they reached a small pond and Jack stopped, looking out at the space in front of them. Liz wished he had chosen somewhere in the city to get married so she could run away right now, so she could hail a cab and flee like the coward she really is. As it is she was stuck here in this rural hell-hole until tomorrow.

"I'm a lucky man," he said, and she realized that she was the one who was supposed to say that, or maybe she was supposed to say something about how his bride was a lucky woman.

"Yep," she echoed idly. "So… nervous?"

"A bit of nervousness is normal," Jack replied, and again Liz felt stupid because that should have been her line.

"Of course it is," she agreed, patting his hand. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it but didn't let go.

"We'll still be friends when you're married," Liz murmured, "right?"

She wasn't sure if she or Jack was more surprised.

"Of course we will," he assured her. "And you'll still be my mentee."

"Right," Liz nodded absently. "Of course."

He still hadn't let go of her hand and she didn't know how to extricate herself without hurting his feelings but if she didn't let go in a minute she was going to drag him away and lock him in her office until he agreed to marry her instead (and she wouldn't look good in prison garb- orange is so totally not her color).

"Even when you have kids?" she pressed.

Jack didn't answer and for a moment she wasn't sure he heard her.

"I'm not sure we're going to have kids," he said softly, eyes fixed on some abstract point in the distance so he could avoid meeting her gaze.

"But why not?" Liz was shocked. Jack had always harbored the hope of being a dad, almost as much as she'd dreamt about being a mother.

"Abby just isn't sure children fit our lifestyle," he shrugged.

"But," Liz stuttered. "You've always wanted kids. You'd make such a fantastic father. You're-"

"Well," Jack's voice was stilted and sharp but distinctly forlorn. "It's just not meant to be I suppose."

"But Jack," Liz began.

"Lemon," he cut her off, his voice ever-so-slightly jagged. "Not everyone can afford to wait forever to be happy."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she bit back, instantly wary.

"Nothing," Jack let out a long breath. "I'm sorry. I'm just a little on edge. Such a big day."

But she knew what he meant.

_Not everyone wants to be lonely, old, and alone because they think they're waiting for something perfect to come along._

It didn't escape Liz that she was one of the only people at the wedding who didn't have a date. It didn't evade her that she was one of the only people at 30 Rock with such a train wreck of a romantic history.

Jack was probably right; waiting hadn't gotten her very far. Looking for the perfect thing hadn't gotten her anywhere.

Maybe she should have settled while she had the chance.

"So you're settling?" she challenged, and this is _so_ not the time or the place.

"Of course not, Lemon," Jack admonished her. "I've found a woman I love and who loves me in return and with whom I can be happy, fulfilled, and successful. I'm not settling, I'm simply willing to make concessions in order to be ultimately happy. It's part of being an adult."

And maybe that had always been Liz's problem, her unwillingness to make sacrifices. Her unwillingness to trade things that she wanted for the comfort of conventional happiness.

"Let's face it," Jack sighed softly. "While I'm still one of the most desirable men in the world, I'm not getting any younger. I want a partner in life, someone to talk to and rely on and love and who will do those things for me in return. I want a lover and a friend and a confidant and if that means I never have children then I'm probably at the point in my life where I need to face facts and deal with that."

"I don't think," Liz began, but she stopped almost immediately. "Maybe you're right, Jack. But even if you didn't get married, you'd always have me."

"Did I ever have you, Lemon?" he asked, turning his piercing gaze on her with an intensity that made her physically shy away. "I wasn't aware that I did."

"I meant," she stammered. "I mean, you know, I'll always be your friend," she punched him playfully on the shoulder and god, she hated herself sometimes. "And your, uh, your manatee. And we'll see each other at work and I'll bother you with my lame problems and you can solve them and tell me when my shoes are bisexual."

"Mentee," Jack corrected, his eyes never leaving hers. Barely a second passed before he spoke again. "I won't even make you wait until, _Speak now or forever hold your peace_."

Liz's heart dropped out the bottom of her stomach and everything around her got a little hazy. She felt like she was drunk, like every molecule in her body had slowed to give her time not to screw this up.

But of course, she had never been able to get things like this right.

"I, uh," she felt failure and fear and weakness filling her entire body one molecule at a time. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You don't?" Jack challenged, "or you won't admit it?"

"I can't," she sighed.

"Can't," Jack pressed. "Or won't?"

"Can't," she replied.

"Because you don't love me or because you're afraid of what will happen if you admit that you do?" he urged.

"Jack," Liz warned. "We're at your wedding. To another woman."

And this time, _another woman_ is the appropriate phrase.

"Would it help if I admitted to loving you?" he asked.

"No!" she exclaimed, stepping back. "You're getting married in an hour."

"I just think you should know the facts before you make a decision," he shrugged.

And again Liz thought that this was wrong, was a total role reversal. She should be spilling _her_ guts, admitting _her_ feelings, telling _him_ the facts before he made a decision.

"I'm not the one making a decision here," she challenged. "You are."

"Only because I realized a few weeks before proposing to Abby that you would never love me like I want you to."

"What?" Liz stuttered, breathing suddenly a chore.

"I want you to love me for all of me," he explained. "I want you to love my faults as much as my charms because it's the whole picture that makes up who I am. I want you to love me unconditionally, to support me and cherish me and make love to me. I want you to be unafraid of loving me, of letting me love you. But mostly, I want you to choose me because you want _me,_ not because you decided it's time to settle and take what you can get."

"Marrying you is hardly settling," Liz retorted without thinking.

Jack smiled a small, melancholy smile.

"But it wouldn't work between us," he continued. "Isn't that what you've convinced yourself? We're too different, or possibly we're too alike. Things between us would end badly and ruin our friendship and our professional relationship and you'd be heartbroken and who wants to put up with all that, right? I know you, Liz. I know the thought process you endured to decide I wasn't worth it and I knew I wouldn't be able to convince you otherwise. Or that if I did, and for some one-in-ten-trillion chance it didn't work out then I wouldn't be able to live with myself for convincing you it could work and then having it fail."

"It's not that I don't think you're worth it," she offered weakly, wishing she could explain. Wishing she could go back and do a thousand-and-one things differently.

"But isn't it?" he responded adamantly, though gently. "Think about it, Liz. There are a million reasons why you've never told me how you feel, why you never gave me any indication that there might be something more than friendship for us. I value your friendship, most highly. But I can't be alone forever, Liz. I don't think anyone should have to be. And if I can't have you, I'm willing to have the next best thing that I can find. That's Abby."

The lyrics, '_If I can't have you, I don't want nobody baby,' _stream errantly through Liz's brain and she tried to filter them out.

"Focus, Lemon," Jack chided, but there was humor in his voice. "You can listen to the song when you get home."

Liz didn't bother trying to deny the implication and instead focused on the fact that Jack could apparently read her mind and in thirty-something minutes Jack would be married _to someone else _and none of this would matter.

"So you _are_ settling," she suggested, trying to keep the accusation out of her voice. For some reason, knowing that Abby was a poor man's Liz Lemon (at least as far as Jack's concerned) didn't make her feel better.

"Yes," he admitted, unashamed. "I'm settling for happiness."

_Settling for happiness._

Liz had always seen settling as something that only ended in misery.

"Settling for happiness?" she echoed. "Instead of settling for me."

"I wouldn't be settling for you," Jack asserted vehemently.

"Why didn't you just say something like a normal person," Liz practically whined. "Ask me on a date or kiss me or something?"

"And how would you have responded?" he fired back.

"Well since I'm in love with you I probably wouldn't have resisted," she blurted.

Jack's eyes got unreasonably wide.

"You're in love with me?" he said incredulously.

"Isn't that what we've been talking about this whole time?" Liz demanded, frustration making her tense, making her back ache and her feet throb.

"I just thought you had a crush on me," Jack shrugged. "If I'd known the magnitude of your feelings, I never would have let it go this long without saying something."

"You could have told me," he added.

"We're kinda going in circles here," Liz replied. "Maybe we should deal with the whole, _you're getting married in less than an hour_ issue and then decide who's to blame for letting it get to this point when we have a little more free time."

"Right," Jack nodded. "So what does this mean to you then?"

"Are you going to marry some other lady?" Liz asked seriously.

"Not if you'll go on a date with me," Jack offered.

The moment expanded around them, the history of their relationship weaving through Liz and instilling in her a certainty that she'd never expected. Jack was nothing like what she imagined for herself. He was almost the complete opposite in fact.

But somehow he was right for her.

"Deal," Liz responded. "Now what?"

"Now comes the hard part," Jack indicated the church with a tilt of his head.

"We could make a run for it," Liz suggested with a laugh.

"That would hardly be the honorable thing to do," Jack scoffed, frowning at her.

Without thinking, Liz leaned up and pressed her lips softly to his, her only thought wiping the scowl off his face.

When she pulled back, the magnitude of it all crashed over her.

"I'm sorry," she apologized.

"Don't be," Jack retorted instantly. "I would love to run away with you, you know that right?"

Liz nodded.

"You know that I support you," she countered. "Right?"

Jack nodded.

"So you also know that there's no way in hell I'm going back in that church, right?"

Jack laughed. "I assumed as much," he fished in his pocket for a set of keys. "Here. I'll meet you in New York tomorrow."

Liz furrowed her brow, inspecting the keys suspiciously.

"Take my car," Jack encouraged. "I'll have Kenneth or Pete bring me back tomorrow. I think it's best if you're not here. Abby has never been particularly fond of you." He smiled softly in an attempt to soften the words.

Nodding, Liz grasped the keys. Jack didn't let go, using the hold to pull her up against him. He kissed her, slowly and deeply enough that she forgot for a moment where they were.

When he stepped back, there was love in his eyes.

"Tomorrow then," he said.

"Tomorrow," she confirmed.

"Forever," he told her.

And with a wink and a kiss on the cheek he was breezing back towards the church at full speed.

Liz watched him go.

"Forever," she whispered.


End file.
